World Walkers: One
by TheAwesomeGizmo
Summary: A young man takes a tentative step into a larger universe. The first part of a multi-verse series that will span across multiple fiction.
1. Chapter 1

_**First and foremost, I would like to mention that this story will contain characters that aren't mine, or ever will be. The characters are there for the story, but the original creators of them are the owners. I intend for this story to be a chain of stories, eventually a multi-verse crossover piece of fiction. I gladly accept criticism with open arms.**_

 **Part One**

Scott hates walking. Running, jogging or driving, he loves, but walking he completely despises. He found it to be too slow, never one for taking in the scenery but rather appreciating it at a fast paced blur. Often, Scott preferred getting to his specific destinations at a speedier pace. A to B. C to D. Life, as cliché as is sounds, is much too short to walk slow or stroll casually to ogle at the trees or sky. The environment would stay the same whether he awed at it or not. The only placed that Scott truly appreciates is his Grandparents house, which is a lovely little semi-detached house on the very corner of a small close, in the beautifully picturesque outer suburbs of Liverpool, United Kingdom. The close rests upon a hill that overlooks the city, the skyline outlining the beauty of the River Mersey behind it. Scott's Grandparents home may not be the roomiest of households, but it was home. You would think that a house run by pensioners may be decorated in a slightly more 'old-fashioned' look, but you would be wrong in the case of Scott's Grandparents, who thought it to be their personal goal to make their small house as modern-looking as possible. The floors are lain with laminated mahogany wood, and the walls and ceiling are decorated in blending colours of creamy whites and greys. However, as with most pensioner houses, technology is a little more devoid than that of younger abodes, the fifty-inch television being the only mark of the 21st Century being present. Apparently, Scott's Nana finds 'buttons and swiping screens confusing'. The house hosts a meagre three bedrooms and a quaint bathroom that accompanies a walk-in shower, next to which sits a floor -to-ceiling mirror.

It is in this mirror that Scott Hunter is narcissistically examining himself, checking depressingly for thinning hair. Scott stares intently in the mirror at his mousy blonde hair, which is short and swept slightly to the right, as if he actually bothered to use a comb but gave up half way through. Snarling at himself in frustration, Scott gives himself a once-over to check that he is fit to venture into the wilderness of the outside world. Scott is small for a lad of his age, sporting only five foot five inches' worth of height. However, as he always said to himself _'Big things in small packages'_. If not for his near-handsome features, Scott may have developed a small confidence problem regarding his height, having come to accept the fact that he was never going to grow any taller, irrefutable of the reassurances his Nana liked to make that he was going to 'shoot up one day'. Scott has blue eyes, which change to green depending on the light he is in. His face also sports a very defined jawline, upon which rests a scruffy dusting of brown-blonde stubble. His face is relatively clear, with only a few freckles dotted around from previous stubbornness to wear any sun protection cream. Other than that, his pale white face does not sport any blemishes. "Scott! You best ad' get down here soon lad, you'll end up late for work!" the voice of his Pops rang through the house like a grandfather clock. "All right, old man, keep your hair on! Scott shouted back "…or what's left of it anyway" "What was that?" "Nothing" Scott said quickly. He gave himself another check over, nodded, and left the bathroom and went cascading down the stairs to where his Grandad, Pops, was waiting for him. Pop's never said a word and just grunted, one stubby finger pointing out the door towards his car. Scott smirked and patted his father figure on the shoulder lightly, and opened the door to get ready for a long day at work.

Working as a Chef isn't as exciting as many people seem to think it is. Sure, Gordon Ramsay makes it look good by shouting and swearing at everyone, stressing the team out but somehow managing to make 500 _vol-au-vents_ in no time at all. Of course, in the real world, there is still as much swearing as Chef Ramsay makes there out to be, perhaps even more so. However, not nearly as much production or finesse as you come to expect from professional caterers. Anyway, working in a kitchen is good for character building, and there's nothing like a hard day's work in one to make you exhausted to the point of collapse. Scott's colleagues say that they always dream of work, and due to spending so much time in work, it feels like they never leave. This is where Scott finds a major difference between himself and his work friends.

Lately, he's been feeling like the main character in a young adult work of fiction, dreaming the same dream over and over again. However, unlike a main character, these particular nightly escapades tend to lack any adventure following them, or make any sense at all for that matter. As it always is after a 14-hour shift, Scott arrives back at his Grandparents home feeling like yet another day has flown by, his life speeding ahead of him at supersonic speeds. He would describe his days at work, but that would only succeed in boring the absolute life out of you. Instead, as soon as Scott returns home in what feels like no time at all, he drifts off once he has removed all olive oil drenched clothing and his head hits his relatively soft pillows.

 _Scott stands on a platform made of pure white, brilliant stone. It is difficult to describe exactly what type of stone it is, only that it is blinding to look at for much too long. Almost like staring at the sun for lengthy periods of time, it leaves him partially blind and his eyesight spotty. Scott raises his hand to cover his face, squinting at the object before him. He never looks around himself to see what he is surrounded by, because the foreign object in front of him is much too interesting. He can never truly make out what it is, only it's shape. It seems to be a small pillar, and resting on top of it, a brilliant gem that glows even brighter than its home. Scott tentatively takes a few steps forward, like a small deer learning to walk for the first time. His knees wobble and his lower lip quivers in a mixture of fear and curiosity. Scott raises his left hand, his right still slightly shielding his face from the sheer brilliance of the light emanating from the gem and the stone platform he believes he is stood on. His left arm, only a few inches away from the stone, trembles in anticipation. It takes everything Scott has to keep himself upright, a feeling of strange nausea hitting his stomach suddenly. The gem seems to glow ever brighter, and a humming sound resonates in Scott's ears, a ringing like the aftershock of a flashbang grenade battering his sensitive eardrums. He is just about to touch the gem and-_

Scott absolutely fucking hates waking up like that. Every night the dream is the same. Every night he gets close to the gem. Every night he nearly touches it, only to wake up with his right arm over his face like he is still trying to shield himself from the light. Putting his arm down by his side, Scott heaves a massive sigh, groans and slightly turning over onto his side, he grabs his mobile phone from the desk next to his bed. Unsurprisingly, there are no new notifications, not even an invitation from one of his family to play Candy Crush Saga on Facebook. Groaning again, Scott puts down his phone and rolls back to stare at the ceiling. Surrounding Scott are dozens of books, some open, some closed, some torn and some moulded with years of abuse from coffee stains. _Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix_ lies open closest to him, the book devoid of any cover, torn at the edges. Scott had always been a major book worm. Well, he'd always been King of Procrastination if anything. Films, Books, Manga, Anime, Theatre-Scott had always made it his personal mission to watch or read as much as possible. Of course, this meant that he became a full-time couch potato, so he also included a bit of gym time into his busy entertainment schedule, so as not to _look_ like he lived the lifestyle of laziness.

Scott closed his eyes, hoping for sleep to come again, it's a day off after all…it's a day off! Scott sat up straight in bed. He dived out, running downstairs rapidly. Pacing straight into the kitchen, Scott poured water into the kettle and waited for it to boil as he made himself a morning pick-me-up. Scott, leaning against the kitchen countertop, strummed his fingers against counter and clicked his tongue impatiently, the excitement of the day ahead refusing to leave him.

Scott looked out of his kitchen window. It was a lovely summers day, the rays of sunshine beating down at the small patch of grass in his backyard. The garden was decorated in a modern style like the rest of the house, with wooden decking separating the grass from the house and a mixture of potted plants and miniature trees dotted around the space. However, today, it wasn't the garden or the brilliance of the summer sun that caught his eye, but a slight shimmering towards the very back of the yard. It may have just been a trick of the sun, distorting his vision slightly, but he was positive that he saw the shimmering at the back of the garden moving. Only slightly, but it was definitely moving. Pouring himself a coffee, he added milk and sugar (last, because only a heathen adds it first) and walked outside the back door towards, what he thought, was probably a hallucination "You need to stop smoking so much Scotty…" mumbling to himself, Scott reached inside his pyjama bottoms and took out a cigarette and a lighter with his free hand. He lit up with the same hand and walked slowly towards the shimmering at the back of the garden.

He inhaled smoke, exhaled, trying to figure out if he was still dreaming or not. The shimmering was a disturbance, definitely not a mirage created by the heated sun rays. He took a sip of his coffee and debated moving closer. It could be anything. A gas leak? Scott was unsure of what to do next. In one of his books, the main character would jump straight through and start an adventure of a lifetime. Scott wasn't sure he was the adventuring type. Also, Scott was well aware that reality was greatly exaggerated in his books and films that he watched, as he knew that life was never as fair or lucky as the main characters in his books seemed to find it. There might not be a happy ending. All of these thoughts rushed through Scott's head in a matter of seconds. The smoke he exhaled rose in circular patters above his head, caught the slight wind and disappearing. Scott regarded the shimmering light trick a little more, trying to decipher just what it exactly was. It reminded him of a fogged up mirror in a bathroom, after you've taken a shower and you can't see your own reflection properly. He could only just make out the rest of the wooden panelling behind the shimmering. Instantly, he thought of his Nana and Pop's. Weren't they home? He hadn't seen or heard them when he had come cascading down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Pops! Nana! You home?" Scott turned away from the shimmering mist and shouted this into the distance, hoping and waiting for a reply that he knew probably wouldn't come. His Grandparent's often spent days away from the house, spending their retirement quite happily exploring parts of the UK, eating afternoon teas and drinking in quaint little pubs.

He thought of his phone, and that he should take a picture of the shimmering for evidence so he could show it someone later. However, a strange feeling in his stomach told him that if he did that, it might not be there when he returned back downstairs to take the picture. Something inside him, something adventurous and stupid, something ridiculous and just downright childish and adolescent said to him, _It's now or never._ Scott debated about it for a second. He was stood in a pair of tartan pyjamas. He also sported a nice _Iron Maiden_ t-shirt and an oversized hoodie that came to his knees. Basically, whatever happened now, he'd look ridiculous whatever the outcome. Whether the shimmering was just a trick of the eye or not, he was about to find out exactly what it was. A window to another world? Probably not. Probably something else, something a trick of the sun created or just a massive coincidence. Scott never knew, but he felt that if he never found out now, he probably never would. It was indeed, now or never. Flicking ash from his half smoked cigarette, Scott placed his coffee on the floor by him, and reached out towards the shimmering mass. His hand, he thought, must have been touching it, but he felt nothing. Scott thought that something should have happened, so he thrust more of his arm towards it and into it, more of the same happening. Nothing. Scott was disappointed. He thought that he was about to become a superhero or something. Isn't this how superhero stories begin? With a strange, natural phenomenon appearing to break up life's monotony. If this was how it really happened, it was a great disappointment to say the least.

That's when something actually happened. No, not to the shimmering. That was still there, unchanged. However, there was no wooden decking behind it anymore. Also, the heat and shining of the midday summer sun no longer beat down on Scott's back. No, the light had changed completely, as if someone had put the sun on a dimmer switch. Scott drew his hand back tentatively and looked around. He wasn't in his Grandparents backyard anymore, that was a definite. He actually wasn't sure where he was. A dimly lit room, he thought, to start off with. The smoke from his still-lit cigarette swirled around him, causing his eyes to water and his nose to wrinkle. He sniffed. Surrounding him was what looked like a large, shady auditorium. Kind of like a lecture theatre, but a lot larger. Scott was stood, he thought, in the middle of the front. Behind him sat a few hundred seats, situated in a circular pattern all around the auditorium, but he couldn't quite make them out in the poor light. He squinted, in the distance he could just a small glimmer, what he thought must be the exit. Squinting in the distance then caught his eye of something else. He followed upwards to see more seats. _The auditorium must be multi-level._ It reminded him slightly of the Empire Theatre back home, but it was so dark that he couldn't exactly tell how many levels there were. However, he was sure that there the room was a lot larger than he originally anticipated.

Scott was surprised at himself. He thought he would have panicked or began to hyperventilate, the prospect of suddenly being transported to a strange location might have made him panic, just a little bit. However, the whole time he had remained calm and unmoving. He had forgotten about his cigarette however, which had burnt out in between his fingers. He dropped it on the floor, as he continued to awe at the surroundings he had suddenly found himself in. The floor felt like marble to his bare feet. It was cool and sent a chill running through his body. There were no recognizable objects for Scott to identify with. No smartboard, whiteboard or chalkboard to mark that this actually was a place of learning. Scott stared back at the shimmering and tried to figure it out. Surely it was some form of mist and he was in a hallucinogenic state, foaming at the mouth back on his Grandparents decking. However, the shimmering remained there, a figure of his imagination brought alive. If this was a dream, it was a fucking good one to say the least. Everything felt so _real._ Scott grinned from ear to ear. He might not be the adventurous type, but he somehow still felt a slight feeling of exhilaration. He hadn't even had breakfast yet.

He turned around and took one small, tentative step in the direction of the glimmering light in the distance, maybe to find out where he had appeared. It was crazy to think that only minutes ago he was pouring hot water into his mug to have a coffee. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. Was this what it actually felt like to start an adventure? He didn't think so. He hadn't pictured himself stood in tartan pyjamas to start with. He smiled to himself once more. Maybe the slow monotony of his life may become suddenly exciting. Finally, maybe his laborious existence had started at a jogging pace instead of just strolling through the paces of paying bills and going to and from work.

However, just as Scott was about to take another step into adventure, a loud, piercing alarming sound rang through the 'auditorium' (let's just call it that for the time being) and threatened to burst his eardrums. The alarm sounded like one long wolf howl, only louder and uglier, as if the wolf was dying and howling its lungs raw at the same time. Scott panicked, turned towards the shimmering that had seemingly brought him here and gasped when it was no longer there. _Well, shit._

Scott could hear voices, shouting off in the distance, from around where the glimmering light he had seen earlier. The alarm had not stopped, his ears ringing, he felt like he could feel blood trickling down his neck from shattered eardrums. It became difficult to think, panic rising in him like bile. The voices, shouting and inaudible barking noises, became more profound over the alarm. He could make out individual voices getting closer. Perhaps they were in the auditorium? He never wanted to stay around in his tartan pyjamas to find out. So, taking a page out of one of his main character's novels, he did what they all seem to do quite well. Scott ran. Scott ran quite fast.

The alarm was still shrieking in his ears, a headache now forcing itself to the foremost of his thoughts. He couldn't think, he couldn't escape the pain and he was pretty positive that soon, he wouldn't be able to escape his pursuers. Scott ran, step by step, up the marble (he thinks) stairs, his smoker's lungs giving him away almost instantaneously. He looked behind him and saw that his pursuers, who he couldn't quite make out in the lack of light, were at the spot where he had arrived. He had somehow managed to flank them and escape to the exit where they must have come through. As he approached it, he saw that the blue light was a sign above a glass door. He couldn't make out the language that rested on it, but the blue light emanating from it was blinding. Another thing that added to his ever increasing headache. Scott panted and ran through the glass door into an even darker room. Around him looked to be a console, with various buttons showing blue lights on them also. He quickly spun around in a spot, his thoughts running away from him. He was fairly certain soon he was either going to wake up, get caught or get killed. He had not planned for his adventure to turn out quite in this fashion. He pictured more swords and dragons originally, not alarms and blinding lights.

Scott fumbled around in the dark for anything that felt like a door, running his hands along the wall, whilst his other hand had automatically raised to hold his head, which threated to fall to the floor ahead of him, causing him to collapse before he could achieve escape, or anything for that matter. He was beginning to panic even more, Scott's Adam's apple rising in his throat, drying it out. He gulped a raspy bubble of rusty air and continued to frantically search for a door, the hyperventilating now coming in droves. Surprisingly, he could hear his own blood strumming through his ears, the sound of his heartbeat somehow louder than that of the ringing. _How was that possible?_ He put it down to trauma and stress and carried on, with shaking hands, searching for his escape route. He turned his head around to look for his pursuers, but was unable to see anyone or hear their barking noises anymore. Just as he was about to give up, his hand fell on what felt like a handle, or what he thought must be one at the very least. Scott almost yelled in exhilaration. His momentary panic forgotten, he put all of his remaining energy into pushing open the newfound door. The door pushed open slowly, daylight seemingly pouring in through the door.

What Scott opened the door to made his jaw drop. Like, literally drop like something out of a _Looney Toons_ episode. He couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. Before him stood the largest corridor he ever saw. It seemed to be made of all black marble, like the floor of the auditorium. The corridor could have fitted a small skyscraper; he could only just make out the ceiling. It all seemed to be made of that marble, but in certain places it blended into different shades of the grey, making it seem like an optical illusion. To accompany the corridor was equally humungous windows, in which a brilliant white light shone through, a light akin to sunlight but somehow seeming brighter. He looked to his left and seen what he thought could only be doors, made of glass but varying size. Some doors where the same height (he presumed) as the ceiling, whereas others varied in sizes from regular size to about fifteen foot. To add even more to the oddity of the situation of the location he had stumbled into, the corridors where not empty. Creatures, for that was all he could describe them as, of all shapes and sizes quickly traversed the corridor, as the ringing had followed him into this strange place as well. Somewhere too tall to comprehend, whereas others where around his size. He saw that some had more than four limbs, sporting a dozen or more, some had more than one head and some had no limbs at all, choosing to travel in what looked like oversized hovering wheelchairs. Some had humanoid figures such as himself, but different variations of skin colouring, hair colours and clothing attire.

Scott took all this information in over a space of what must have been a few seconds, his jaw hanging open waiting for flies to go in the entire time. He hadn't heard the approaching steps behind him and the barking sounds of jubilation at the prospect of finding the intruder ringing in their voices. Scott didn't even take another second to turn around to look at his followers. He assumed that he would only find more weirdness that would send him over the edge. At any rate, at this point in time, Scott wasn't sure he was quite ready to see any of these strange creatures from a sci-fi story up close. He wasn't entirely sure that his brain would be able to process the information, what with the alarm still ringing and the headache returning. So Scott returned to the only thing that he thought he could do at this time.

"It's now or never kid, let's just think about all this shit later" Scott mumbled to himself, reassurance perhaps the only thing that was keeping him sane, and on his two feet. Scott ran as fast he could, his hoodie trailing behind him like an oversized cape. Adrenaline pumped through him as he ran. Scott ran to the left, towards the glass doors and ran straight past them. He was sure that he didn't want to get lost or trapped at this particular point in time. That would only spell even more weird or bad situations that may even just send his brain into complete overload. He moved quickly to dodge people (if that's what he could call them at this point, not meaning to be racist or whatever) and ignored the further barks and shouts that flew towards his general direction. What felt like a burst of hot wind flew past his right shoulder, and he followed the feeling and direction of it to see a white light hit the marble wall in front of him, a plasma like substance splattering itself over the blackness as a paint can would if thrown at it. His breath caught in his throat, as he peered behind his shoulder in curiosity at the sender of the white light. Behind him, Scott finally got his first look at his pursuers. Following him at a high speed were around six pursuers that he could make out.

Two of them longer and more feminine features, but he couldn't tell for sure. The other four were rather large and cloaked in black and red hooded garments, so it was difficult to make out specific features. One particular pursuer was hovering slightly above the ground in a kind of _Iron Man_ fashion, using his/her hands for stabilisation. One of the larger pursuers, around 8ft tall held a large stick? Maybe a staff? He wasn't sure, but what he was quite sure that it was this that fired the white light that nearly hit him before. It looked to be aiming at him again.

Scott's feet were moving as fast as he could make them, and he approached a corner with more of the white plasma lights following him and missing him by sheer complete luck. When he rounded the corner, he noticed the corridor was empty, but also declined into a more normal looking one. On each side of the corridor were large black pillars, something akin to the Ancient Greek pillars you seen in museums and such. Vines spread across the marble walls and onto the floor, making this particular corridor look a lot more interesting yet older and worn down, ancient even. Scott never paused to ogle at his surroundings, preferring to run and think about what he saw later. _This is one messed up dream._

Scott continued running, the voices of his pursuers getting closer, but unable to make out any individual sound over the shriek of the ever ringing alarm. He risked a further look back to see that his chasers were only a few steps behind him. He was going to get captured. As Scott turned back around to look for further escape routes, panic now rising in him even further, threatening to reach a boiling point and implode, he squinted on a small figure ahead. The figure was stood by one of those glass doors that he had spotted earlier, the door looking similar to the ones that he was used to. However, he could make out strange marking around the door, all of them unreadable but glowing that same blue that he had seen before in the auditorium. Running faster, his lungs feeling like they were going to stop at any moment, Scott's heart stopped. In front of him, stood a figure on four legs, a figure that he had only seen before a few times that he believed to be a work of fiction. He couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing, and deduced that he must have gone completely insane, or took a really bad trip to a drug he must have been slipped. It was impossible, absolutely unbelievable, unfathomable. In front of him stood a purple dragon, with yellow horns and a particularly recognizable face. He was a little larger than he imagined, but it was for definite whom he was looking at. In front of him stood Spyro the Dragon.

It was then that everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

_**I realise that this story is slow going. It is meant to be like this. I want it to build up slowly before anything is explained. Sorry if you find it boring, I promise more excitement and less Scott on his own in the future. Also, sorry for any errors in grammar or whatever. I'm a University Student, I have essays to write.**_

 **Part Two**

Scott is lying down. He's not sure where his, but whatever he's lying on it's uncomfortable. He cannot open his eyes, which feel astonishingly heavy, and he can feel needles pressed into his arms, which are strapped down. Voices sound from around him, close enough to only be a few foot away.

"I don't understand." A voice he recognized instantly, but under his heavy sedation and hazy mind, could not pinpoint where he knew it from.

"How did he get here? I thought humans never came here? We don't go to their world, do we?" the voice sounded desperate "so why is he here?"

"I don't pretend to know. The security system picked up a foreign contaminant in Hall One." The second voice paused "However, it never sounded the alarm for us, we had to do that ourselves when we saw the real-time footage, which is the even stranger part."

"Why is that?"

"I'm not sure what it means."

"Is he a threat? Is he to be executed?" another voice appeared, sounding more distant than the previous two. "Surely he is, he's seen everything now! We need to keep ourselves hidden from these people! It makes it even worse that he's human, there hasn't been a human here-

"Be quiet" another voice, a male voice, more prominent, confidence resonating in his two words. "He's stirring, it's best if he does not hear any more words from your lips."

Everything went black again.

Scott woke up in his bed, gasping for air. He looked around. He was in his bed, his room and in his house. He sat up, faster than he usually would on a normal day, when it would take him at least half an hour to function properly before waking up at all-only being semi-conscious the whole time.

This time, however, Scott shot up instantly. He could scarcely remember what had happened to him the day before. He knew he had had a bad dream, but it had felt so _real,_ he was positive that it had happened. The last thing he remembered was listening to some voices who were saying some rather strange things. It was all fading as well, but he was fairly positive that it had all happened. The images, blurry and fragmented from sleep, came rushing to him in severe confusion. Scott tried to make sense of it all, but knew that to try to do so would only leave him partially sane and frustrated to boot.

Rubbing his head with his left hand, Scott groaned. He reached towards the desk and picked up his phone, which showed only two percent battery life. This was odd, as Scott always, _always_ put his phone on charge before he went to sleep. Scott racked his brain, he couldn't remember what he had done yesterday or even how he had got to bed. All thoughts of the dream or whatever had happened to him had left him at a complete loss for words, and memory. However, another thing that his phone screen showed him shocked him even more. It was the time.

The phone showed that it was currently 4:30pm. Which meant he was over 7 hours late for work. What baffled him though was that there were no missed calls from his work friends or manager, which meant that either today was a day off or something was really, really odd. It was unlike Scott's work to not send any texts or call him twenty times if he was even half an hour late, never mind over half a day. Something was definitely wrong and Scott was going to try to find out, even if he wasn't quite sure how he was going to do that.

Scott eventually rose out of bed, noticing that he was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Sighing, he stripped off the clothes and headed for the shower. Showering always made Scott feel at ease. The warm water seemed to massage his worries away, clearing his mind and putting him in a rather good mood. So that when Scott stepped out of his Grandparent's walk-in shower, something in the mirror made him pause and his breathing begin to increase in pace. His heart fluttered. He slowly turned around and noticed a large red mark, going from shoulder to shoulder. It looked like a scar, but the pink skin wasn't raw, bleeding. It didn't even hurt when Scott raised a tentative hand to it and felt the smoothness of it. It reminded him of a birth mark, but only a different colour and a lot larger than he had ever seen. It could only be a scar, but looked years old. Something strange was definitely happened to Scott, and all of his euphoria from the warm shower vanished instantly. He tried to forget the scar and decided that he would figure everything out later, after he had got some clothes on and rang his Grandparent's.

Scott got dressed, donning a plain white Ralph Lauren t-shirt and slim black jeans. He rummaged around in his wardrobe and pulled out his trainers, a pair of Nike Originals. He walked back into the bathroom and, with satisfaction over his appearance, walked downstairs.

"Pop's? Nana? You here?" Scott called out to yet again, another empty house. _Where are they?_ Scott began to panic, fumbled for his phone and opened it, calling his Grandfather. The phone rang through, over and over until the automated answer message started _Welcome to O2 messaging service…_

Scott heaved a huge sigh in chagrin. He then decided to call his Nana, to see if she would relieve any of the tension building in his chest. He dialled the number and waited, pacing around the living room with his phone pressed to his ear, clicking his fingers in anticipation and impatience. _Welcome to O2 messaging service…_

Scott then proceeded to dial every number in his phone, only to have every single one ring through. Things had just started to get weird for Scott, if that was even possible. Surely one of his friends and family were available to answer the phone. Scott paced around his living room in frustration, as his phone had just died on him. Scott impatiently decided that he couldn't be bothered charging his phone, it was useless at the moment anyway, so he threw it on the nearest couch. He paced into the kitchen and clicked the button on the kettle to boil it and make himself a coffee. He thought that it was a good idea to have a brew, smoke a cigarette and calm himself down. He was no good to anyone half-catatonic.

He turned away from the kettle and faced the kitchen window, a great feeling of _deja-vu_ washing over him. He squinted outside. It was another sunny day, not a single wisp of cloud to grace the gorgeous blue sky. He focused particularly at the back of the garden, where he was sure he had visited at some point yesterday. Everything was still blurry, but he could remember enough that he had left the confines of his Grandparent's house to investigate something at the back of his garden…

Scott jumped when he heard the familiar click of the kettle, signalling that the water inside it had boiled. Scott grinned at himself and his own sheer Britishness. When times are hard or confusing, consult a hot beverage and light a cigarette. Smirking, he helped himself to a few spoons of instant coffee into his favourite _Breaking Bad_ mug. Adding milk and sugar, he sipped from the coffee and shuddered in pleasure.

Scott's stomach growled, telling him that it was high time for something to eat. Scott wondered whether he had eaten anything at all yesterday. Surely he had only come down with a rather nasty fever and hallucinated all day, eventually retreating to bed with an empty belly. That was the excuse that he was going to make up for himself anyway, and one that he was going to probably have to repeat to his duty manager.

Scott walked outside into his garden, his stomach still growling in hunger. He had always thought that nicotine and caffeine came before protein, a little motto he had always laughed to himself about. In many ways, Scott was a strange young man. He pulled a chair out from under the outdoor table and sank into it, lighting his cigarette, cupping the end of it with his free hand to guard the flame from the wind. However, when he brought his hand back down again and exhaled a rather large cloud of poisonous fume, a glimmering caught his eye at the end of the garden. Scott's heart stopped. He placed his cigarette in the ash tray on the table.

The events of yesterday afternoon came back to him in pieces. He suddenly remembered the shimmering at the back of the garden, the small cloud of strange light that led to events that he couldn't make sense of in his brain. He stood up slowly, his chair scraping against the floor and his coffee spilling slightly from where it rested on the table. The shimmering wasn't there, but in its place was what could only be described as a small stone. He walked over to it. It looked egg shaped, but shone a brilliant white light and stood out profusely in the summer sun of his Grandparent's back garden.

Scott reached down and hesitantly picked up the palm-sized stone. It felt like a ball of glass, but slightly warm to the touch. It was entirely smooth, with no markings or indents to show signs of damage. He had never seen quite anything like it. That was when it hit him. Scott had seen this before, but only when he had been asleep.

 _His left arm, only a few inches away from the stone, trembles in anticipation. It takes everything Scott has to keep himself upright, a feeling of strange nausea hitting his stomach…_

Scott remembered that particular part of the dream that plagued him most nights. He never managed to reach the gem that was on top of the platform, yet here it was, clutched in his sweaty palm. An object right out of a dream. He squeezed it slightly, then pinched himself to make sure that everything that was happening was real. He could only deduce that the events of yesterday had actually happened, in some form anyway. Perhaps he was still dreaming, stuck in the longest chain of dream events seen since _Inception ._

He turned around to pick up his abandoned cigarette and coffee, to find that they were no longer there. Again, for the second time in two days, he found himself no longer standing in his Grandparent's backyard but in a completely different location. This time, however, he would like to think that he was better dressed for the occasion this time around. He spun around and realised that he was stood on a platform made of white light, the exact same light that he recognized from his dreams. First the egg-like stone or gem, now the actual location from his dream. His mind either had a really excitable imagination or there was something definitely strange going on with Scott.

Scott looked towards of the centre of the platform he was stood upon in anticipation. Low and behold, the stand for the gem he was clutching was there. Scott looked at the smooth, white gem in his hands. He didn't know what come upon him, but he heaved a grudging sigh, wiped the pal of his left hand on his jeans and walked towards the little pillar. He reached out his hand that had the gem in it and placed in on the stone pillar gently. Scott took a few steps back and regarded the strange sight. It looked exactly as it did in his dreams. Scott waited and eagerly anticipated something to happen. Nothing did. He growled to himself impatiently and looked around himself for signs. Only when Scott did this, he gasped in awe at the surroundings. He was on a platform in space. As absolutely ridiculous as that sounded, he could only describe his environment as something right out of Chris Nolan's _Interstellar._ Surrounding Scott were millions and millions of stars. He could even make out tiny galaxies off in the distance. Astounded, Scott walked to the edge of the platform, which he now realised was circular, with the pillar and gem centred in the middle.

The platform seemed to be holding itself up, and Scott, in his excitement, came to the sudden realisation that he shouldn't even be able to breath. He clutched at his throat and his eyes grew wide, wondering whether he was already dead and this was somehow the afterlife. Thoughts such as these raced through Scott's had at a million miles an hour, his heartbeat increasing. He was sure to have a heart attack soon, the amount of stress his Grandparent's back garden had caused him over the last 48 hours or so. He was regretting even getting out of bed.

As Scott stood there, panicking and holding his throat, the gem started to hum quietly. Scott looked towards it in surprise. It hadn't made any noise before now. He walked towards it and the humming seemingly grew louder. He reached a shaking finger towards it and gentle poked it. Scott cried out, the gem was white-hot and burned his finger tip like a hot iron would if held for too long. His first instinct was to pull his finger away but for some reason it wouldn't budge. It was almost as if it was glued to the little orb. Cursing in pain, Scott instinctively put his other hand on the orb to try and pry away his hand, only to be burned again and find that his other hand was glued to the orb. Scott screamed in terror.

"Get off me! Get off me, you stupid egg, let me go!" Scott cursed at the orb and pulled away from the orb with all his might.

His legs buckled and he fell to his knees, the pain of the hot object robbing him of all his energy. He looked up at it and noticed that it was glowing, glowing just as bright as the sun. It hurt to look at, and his vision became blurry. Scott continued to cry out in terror, as he couldn't comprehend the situation before him. Seconds earlier he had been in the back of his Grandparent's home. The stone glowed even brighter, and then something wonderful happened. The pain stopped. However, the feeling was replaced with an icy feeling that sent chills running up and down his spine, his hair standing on end.

The glowing reduced from the egg, but if his eyes weren't deceiving him, he could see a slight shining, the same glowing that came from the egg, in his fingers. He pulled on his hands again, relief washing over him when his efforts proved successful and his hands were freed. He pulled his hands towards his face, still on his knees. The glowing had begun to spread from his fingertips into his hands. Like blood, the glowing somehow seemed to enter his bloodstream and shot along his veins and arteries. His arms were now almost completely consumed by the glowing. Screaming Scott stood up and staggered back, away from the egg and the newfound source of his nightmares. His hands and arms grew hot, a feeling which soon spread throughout his entire body. He felt like he had been set on fire, but couldn't do anything to put it out, as the fire raged below his skin. The light glowed even brighter, until he noticed it glowing from below his t-shirt, and through his jeans. It had somehow spread and infected the rest of his body. Scott thought his brain was going to melt. He looked up at the stars swirling above him and screamed.

Scott passed out, his head hitting the stone floor hard.


End file.
